Dear Catastrophe Waitress
by nyxie9
Summary: Sam Guthrie a.k.a Cannonball meets a woman...or so it seems...on hiatus
1. Dear Catastrophe Waitress

**Title**: Dear Catastrophe Waitress

**Author**: nyxie9

**Disclaimer**: If you recognize the characters, chances are I don't own them. Stahl is mine, all mine but I'll share her with Sam 'cuz he's so darn cute. In addition to the many things I don't own Belle and Sebastian and the song Dear Catastrophe Waitress are among them as well.

**Comic**: x-men

**Pairing/Characters**: Sam Guthrie/OC

**Rating**: R overall

**Summary**: Sam meets a woman he wants but it there more to her than meets the eye? (Mmm…cliché but please read on.)

"Dear Catastrophe Waitress

Dear Catastrophe Waitress

I'm sorry that you seem to have the weight of the world over you

I cherish your smile

There's a word of peace on your lips

Say it, and with tenderness I'll cherish you"

Dear Catastrophe Waitress

Sam Guthrie had to restrain his smile as he walked past the plate-glass window of the diner. He had to hide the fact that he was specifically searching the establishment for one particular person. Carrie, so proclaimed the shiny plastic rectangle pinned on her chest, always wore at a slight angle. And his mouth curved up, a grin nearly bursting over his face as he spotted the petite blonde by the mass of hair piled up in a sloppy bun secured with artistic chopsticks. Somehow she looked good in the blue polyester dress all the waitresses wore at "Chip's". The diner wasn't the best place to eat in Westchester but it was clean, the food was deceptively eatable and for Sam, the most important part was the girl.

It was getting late. The city streets were dark lit dimly by flickering street lamps and only a few people were still milling about. It wasn't a busy part of the city nor was it a busy night at Chip's and he hoped the kitchen wasn't closed quite yet. He'd put off having dinner until then just so he could see her. He always sat up at the counter when he came alone. She would talk to him sometimes, other times he just watched her work. Sam was admittedly smitten with the pretty woman but he knew little about her aside from her first name, where she worked, that she smelled like frankincense and myrrh and the fact that she like to read Kurt Vonnegut. But she was kind and had a pretty smile. Her teeth were straight and white and made more apparent by her golden brown skin. Her blonde hair and blue eyes combined with the bronzed skin made her look exotic reminding him somewhat of Storm.

The bells jingled as he opened the door drawing the attention of the pretty waitress. "Hey there stranger." She said in the lovely British accent of hers as he took a seat up at the counter, a gentle smile on her lips. He loved her smile when it was because of him. The slow night only held a few loyal patrons so Sam knew he might get a chance to strike up a conversation with Carrie. She had been standing near the cash register, thumbing through a magazine. He had been hoping for a book he'd read so he could try his hand at a better conversation. "Hey, how you been?" He responded. "Can't complain. And yourself? Haven't seen you around in a while." She comment off handedly

That while had been two weeks and he was off dealing with X-man business. But he didn't want to tell her that, didn't want to let her know he was an X-man or even a mutant before he got to know her. It wasn't because he was ashamed of either but he didn't want to scare her off. It wasn't exactly something you could break the ice with. And it hadn't escaped his attention that she had noticed his dearth. Although in her defense prior to his two week absence, he'd been in for dinner or lunch almost every day in as many weeks.

"Ah've been workin'." It was the truth at any rate so he figured it was a good explanation. "Working?" She replied in her soft accent, a hint of a laugh on her lips. "What line of work are you in that earns a handsome bloke like you a shiner like that?" "Oh, that…" His hand drifted to his face a moment. He had forgotten about the bruise he'd earned getting sucker punched. "It's nothin', just in the wrong place at the wrong time." Carrington Stahl, the pretty waitress, known to most simply as Carrie didn't quite believe the southerner who frequented Chip's but let it slide. "Well, let's hope you end up in the right place, if only for the sake of your face." She said with a wink. She didn't tend to flirt with the customers but Sam was kind of a sweet guy, if not a bit misguided in his affections.

She knew the young man had a bit of a crush on her. Chip's just wasn't that good for an attractive man to have any other reason to come here so often. Carrie grabbed a laminated menu from beside the cash register out of habit, knowing what the blonde man would be ordering already. "So what can I get you to drink?" "Uh, just a coke." He replied as she slid the menu in front of him. "I'll be back in a minute." He watched her walk away, noting how she made that hideous dress look so damn good. He had to look away not wanting to get caught ogling her like so many of the men there did. He looked down at the menu instead, even though he knew what he wanted.

He always ordered the same thing but he always wanted to tell her, just for the chance to talk to her again as if she'd fall for him over the meatloaf platter. She tended to the few other patrons before bringing him his soda. He didn't try to eavesdrop but he couldn't help it. He wanted to know if she was just as friendly with him as she was with everyone else. She was polite but she didn't call them handsome. The girl was funny but not particularly memorable, at least not to anyone but him.

She set the glass down in front of him, pulling a straw out of the pocket in her apron. "So, are we feeling adventurous tonight or will it be the usual?" He smiled a bit, trying not to blush. He liked that she notice his typical order. "Uh, Ah think Ah'll stick with the usual." "Suit yourself, mate. You know there are better places to eat around these parts." She said as she leaned into him over the counter. "Ah come for the service, Carrie." She snorted. "You're an odd duck, Sam." There was a moment there where she hesitated, enjoying the subtle hint of cologne and resisted the urge to close her eyes and wait for him to kiss her. Instead, she wrote the order on her little ticket pad and hung it on the nearby carrousel for the cook, quirky smile still on her lips.

He loved flirting with her now that she flirted back. The young Kentuckian had missed her the last few weeks. Sam sighed before he took a sip of soda. It had taken steady dedication to come off as a real person and to hopefully convince her that he wasn't just some creep but he'd come to think of her as a friend. Now, it was making himself miserable, imagining that they had more going on than this little diner and chitchat. As much as he enjoyed their small talk, there wasn't anything really substantial. She would bring him food and silverware and take his money. He needed to either be satisfied with that or make a move.

Part of his mind tried to remind him that she had noticed he was gone, had called him handsome, remembered what he always ordered and she winked at him. She didn't wink at anyone else. Sam wanted to ask her out but he didn't know if she would just count him as another weird customer who forgot that she worked for tips and was just trying to squeeze a few more cents out of someone who fell for it. But he kept coming back to the fact that she called him by name, always made him feel welcome. He was lost in his thoughts when she came back setting the plate of food down in front of him. Carrington chewed her lower lip a bit, finding the look of the young man focused elsewhere, chewing idly on the end of his straw to be quite adorable.

Finding him almost irresistible, a rugged combination between a scruffy and boyishly good looking, Carrie didn't want to leave just yet. "You must really like Paul's meatloaf, eh?" Her soft voice interrupted his planning which mostly focused on figuring out how to ask her out. "Huh?" Came his wide eyed reply. The lovely blonde smiled at his confusion. "I was noting your love of loaf shaped meats." "Kinda reminds me o'my momma's." She laughed, as she rung up another customer's ticket. "I'll be sure t'let him know." "Ah mean it as a compliment." She smiled again, shaking her head. "You need anything else?" He shook his head. "Nah, Ah'm good f'r now." The blonde cursed herself inwardly as she walked away for not being able to come up with anything better than 'loaf shaped meats.'

She walked away from him again to give the customer his change. That would leave them almost alone in the diner. He wasn't entirely sure what he would do or why that mattered. It wasn't as if anyone was paying him any mind aside from Carrie. He could have asked her out a thousand times before, whether or not they were there alone. He watched her in the mirror the counter faced. It usually reflected the morose or tired faces of Chip's typical patrons but tonight it reflected the pretty blonde, almost exclusively for Sam.

At least that's what he wanted to think. She cleared the dishes and cleaned the table in efficient fashion. And she checked on the last of the stragglers before she took the stool next to him. She turned away from the counter, resting her elbows on the edge as she stretched her legs out in front of her, crossing them at the ankle. "So, let me ask you something; you're a young bloke with a cute accent, not too hard on the eyes, you've got manners and yet, you spend half your nights choking down the meatloaf platter here, why?" "Ah…Ah don't know."

Surprised that she had just come out and asked him that, he felt his cheeks redden. It wasn't like she hadn't pointed out something that wasn't true. Sam had at least hoped not to be that transparent. "Misses kick you out or something?" She asked kindly, casting a half smirk at him, trying not to sound like she was hitting on him. Her blue eyes were twinkling with mirth and she gave him a quick laugh as if it were cover up her inquest. "Ah'm not married. Or with anyone." He corrected quickly, not sure if she was teasing him or testing the water. "Ah just haven't felt like cookin' an' uh, food's pretty good here." He cast a sideways glance towards Carrie to gauge her reaction. But her faced was only turned in thought.

"You know, it's almost closing time and I should be kicking you out but just between you and me, there's two slices homemade blueberry pie in the kitchen that I'd be willing to split with you." "Homemade, huh?" "Yep, by yours truly." She said as she pushed herself away from the counter, turning towards him in the swiveling stool. "You can cook?" "Maybe not like your mum's but it won't kill you. I'm pretty sure of that." He smiled back at her. "Ah don't think that would be too awful." "Wonderful. I'll clear the place out and lock up then."

She got up and passed the ticket to the nice looking couple who had come in and were the last left that night. They paid their bill and left, leaving him, Carrie and the cook, Paul. She locked the door and turned the open sign around to show they were closed. He watched her disappear through the swinging door. There was a certain excitement that bubbled in his stomach at the thought of eating with her. Sure it was just pie and she was probably hungry and maybe she even just felt bad for him but it didn't matter because he was going to be spending time with the woman. He endeavored to finish the remains of his dinner before she came back.

Carrie didn't know why she had been hitting on the young blonde. Truth be told, she had missed his almost daily visits to the diner. "Well, Sweetness," She said teasingly to the cook and owner, Paul, "We have somehow defied all odds and survived yet another service." She continued as she put her hand to her forehead, feigning a swoon. He smiled as he continued to clean the kitchen. "No thanks to your mouth." The portly man ribbed her as she put the used dishes in the washer. "You don't know that. Most people find it quite appealing. I think it's the accent." She and Paul had sort of a teasing father/daughter relationship and they were both quite thankful for the other.

"At any rate, I think it's safe for you to head home now. I'll lock up." "What about meatloaf plate out there?" "Meatloaf plate is a nice guy and he's had a hard couple of weeks. I can handle him." "I just don't like the idea of leaving you alone with some strange guy all the same." She shook her head. "I'm small but I'm scrappy. C'mon Diane'll be glad to see you home early and maybe she'll stop thinking we're having an affair." Paul scoffed at her a bit, even though while his wife like the woman, she had thought that he was interested in the pretty blonde girl when he hired her.

"Paul, that bloke out there's a nice guy and…I kinda like him."Carrie confessed, a charming blush rising over her cheeks. "Ah, the truth comes out." He teased her as he patted the top of her head. "It's not like that. You know my heart belongs to Rodger Daultery. Sam is just…a friend." Okay so he was a complete stranger but she felt drawn to him for some reason. The older man was about to protest but he saw the earnestly in her attractive face. Carrie lived a rather solitary life. She never spoke of her friends and only mentioned her brother from time to time. And of the many males who'd found her attractive or been interested in, she'd never shown any interests before.

"Alright," He relented, "But you know where to find me if you need anything." She smiled and hugged the large, balding man who had nothing but good intentions. "Thanks," She said, not wanting to point out that Sam was probably thirty years his junior and looked to be in better shape. If there was a problem giving him a call would probably take too long. But she wasn't worried, not because she thought Sam was that great a guy but because she wasn't just a tiny blonde waitress and could hold her own in a fight. There was a great deal Paul didn't know about her.

"Remember to balance out the drawer and Di wants you to come for dinner this Sunday." He reminded her in his best fatherly tone. "Right, right. I'll be there." "Be safe." He said kissing the top of her head before taking off his apron and shutting down the kitchen for the night. Carrie took to cleaning up the front and dealing with the last of dishes before she returned to Sam, blueberry pie in hand. She inclined her head, directing him to a table rather than the counter. "Join me at a booth here. I need to sit somewhere comfortable for a while."

And he followed willingly as she slid in the green vinyl booth, setting a plate in front of both of them. She gave a satisfied sigh as she sat down, grateful to be off her feet. "Long day?" He asked as he ran his eyes over her. Her face was beautiful and relaxed but all the same she did look sort of tired. "Don't you know it. My feet are killing me." He grinned, wanting to reach across the table and take her hand or have her slide her petite foot in his lap for him to rub. Instead, he took a large bit of pie, enjoying the sweet taste and fluffy crust.

"You know, this is really good pie, reminds me o'home." Carrington laughed as she cut into the desert with her fork. "Good, I'm glad." There was an awkward silence that permeated the diner now. Now that he had her alone Sam couldn't think of what to say to her, at least nothing that sounded articulate. "So," the woman began, breaking the silence, "Tell me something about yourself." Sam laughed nervously. "Uh, Ah'm not sure there's anything interesting t'tell." "Then tell me something boring." She replied, gesturing with her fork.

"Um okay. Ah…well Ah'm from Kentucky." She smiled. "That's not all that boring. You know, I've never been there." "You should go. It's a beautiful place." "I might have to take a trip sometime then." It was idle chitchat but it was nice to talk with a kind man casually, normally. "So where are you from?" "All over really. Cape Verde, originally but uh, I was raised in Portugal and England as well." "Ah figured from the accent, well the England part but not the rest."

"Most don't. I don't mind. I had a very strict uncle who didn't care for my native accent so invested heavily in making sure I sounded more…proper."Sam ran a hand through his hair. He tried to recall a time he enjoyed talking to someone like this as much as he was right now. "Well you do but then Ah guess Ah've always been partial t' a British accent." She chuckled, taking another bit of her desert. "And here I thought I was the one working for tips." "You invite a lot o' folks t' have pie with you after hours for tips?" "No mostly for fun."

Sam raised an eyebrow. He could barely contain the broad smile from over taking his face. It was now or never, he decided. The waitress had thrown out enough hints tonight. "Well, uh, then maybe it's not too forward o' me, Carrie but…do you think Ah could ask you out sometime." She found him rather cute in his shy way and mannerisms. "I bet you could ask me out sometime, if you just tried." Her soft blue eyes were twinkling playfully and he blushed slightly, wishing his words had come out better. "Well, Ah actually…Ah mean, would you go out with me sometime?"

She should have said no and she knew it. It wasn't as if she was actively looking for someone. She didn't want to get involved with someone but she liked Sam. As much as she hated to admit it, she liked him. "I do have one requirement for going out with you." "What's that?" "I have to at least know your last name." The blonde man smiled again. "Guthrie, Sam Guthrie." She seemed to ponder his name for a second before extending her hand to him.

"Carrie Stahl." "Nice t'meet you, Ms. Stahl." "You as well Mr. Guthrie." He held her hand longer than he needed to in a polite hand shake, enjoying its soft warmth. "You know Ah still owe you f'r my dinner and the pie." "Desert's on the house, Sam." "Nah, you don't hafta do that." "Well, it was homemade and I wasn't selling it so, I think I do." She said with a wink. "But you can still pay for you dinner. It'll make Paul less nervous about you."

Smiling, he helped her clear the table and she thanked him. He settled his bill and with his change, she gave him her number. "Give me a ring or…I guess you know where to find me." He grinned and on impulse leaned down to kiss her cheek. "Count on it." Carrie couldn't help but giggle as she showed him out of the diner. "Have a good night Sam. Don't end up in the wrong place." "You either, Carrie. Ah'll see you soon."


	2. I'm a Cuckoo

**Title**: I'm a Cuckoo

**A****uthor**: nyxie9

**Disclaimer**: I don't own the song or anything marvel!

**Comic**: x-men

**Pairing/Characters:** Sam Guthrie/OC

**Rating**: R overall

**Summary:** Part 2 of DCW. A wee bit of insight into Carrie.

"I'm happy for you

Now I know this hurt is poison

Too sharp to be bled

I'm sitting on my empty bed

On my empty bed

At night the fever grows it's pounding, pounding

I'd rather be in Tokyo

I'd rather listen to Thin Lizzy-oh

Watch the Sunday gang in Harajuku

There's something wrong with me, I'm a cuckoo"

I'm a Cuckoo

"Man, oh man. You know Carrie, you've got to be less impulsive. You've got to stop following your hormones around. Now, you gotta find a way to let that poor boy down." Carrington told herself as she walked home after closing up the restaurant. That Sam Guthrie was a sweet boy and she could hardly lie to him, his face was just too innocent. Innocent wasn't the right word because there was something in his features that said he'd seen more than his relaxed mannerisms let on. He didn't cover his past with that mask like she did but she could see the way he worked to blend them.

No, his face held kindness and offered understanding. Maybe that was reading into this situation too much, giving him too much credit or maybe she was laying her own wants and desires on him. But why, she asked herself? Why would she pin all this on Sam Guthrie? She didn't know him and she met a great number of people that she didn't feel this ways about. A pretty face and a set of polished manners weren't enough to make a man innocent or kind or understanding. She didn't know enough about him and she should have applied that patina of skepticism she did to everything else.

Sam was just a customer, just a man a stranger and just because he was nice didn't mean that's all he was. He came in with that black eye; there was a story behind that. He looked too youthful and well kept to be a brawler. Maybe someone found out he was sleeping with their wife…or husband. Sam looked like he could hold his own, tall and muscular, at least from what she'd seen. His kind smile and easy way with her could just be a cover for something.

But his eyes, perhaps it was those steel blue eyes that made her think she could trust him. There was something about them, something there that made her believe that he wasn't just a cleaver deceiver. But perhaps she was wrong about that too. He could still be a different kind of person than she thought. She came back to that black eye. Maybe it had been a woman, a girlfriend finding out he was lying or cheating or drinking or some other despicable trait. Maybe he was just a jerk under his American boy good looks and southern drawl.

She'd been fooled before. Her hand moved to touch her stomach, hovering over the ancient scars covered by polyester now. But she just didn't let her hand touch. They were faint now but a constant reminder, a constant reminder of why shouldn't get involved. But in the back of her mind, something told her that Sam wasn't like that. She suspected it didn't matter in the long run. She would either sleep with him or nothing more would manifest between them.

And of course, what would one night with someone who liked her, who wanted to spend time with her hurt? Paul may not have been a match for Sam but Carrie had a few tricks up her sleeves. She sighed, knowing that it was all pointless because if things got too uncomfortable, too personal she would pack it in, find a new town and a new life. It was easier that way because…she didn't want to think of what could go wrong. She shook her head, hating the way this man seemed to tie her up in knots, excited and dreadful at the same time.

Maybe Sam wouldn't even call her, although that didn't sound likely to her. The young man was persistent and hopelessly excitable, like a little blonde puppy. She liked the idea of someone being nice to her. A smile touched her lips and warmed her as she thought about Sam now. Not about how she could get hurt or what sort of things he was hiding. She indulged herself in thinking of his good qualities. He was handsome, well mannered, charmingly shy, surprisingly well read and he always smelled good. He was certainly a step up from the usual man she found and Sam might be food for a few laughs, a little roll in hay.

Yeah, he was a different sort of man than the one she found herself in the company of. "He's a nice guy, Carrie, he doesn't deserve to be treated the way you treat men. Maybe you could tell him you're gay or you got married or used to be a man or…" She let down her hair as she walked through the quiet streets. "Maybe the fact that you talk to yourself and lecture yourself on your way home. I wouldn't be interested in a crazy chick."

It only took her about 5 minutes to make her way to her apartment. And she was grateful; hoping to let herself relax with whatever pointless fodder was on the television and a cold gin and tonic. She dropped her purse and coat on the table by the door, locked the door behind her and toed off her shoes. Carrie's answering machine blinked evilly, taunting her. She could count on one hand the people who had her number. Her slender hand hovered over the button, considering for a moment letting it slide until the morning but there were only a handful that would leave a message meaning it was likely important.

"Hey, Care. It's Paul, just checking in to make sure you made it home okay so I'm hoping not to find your body in the diner tomorrow. I'm also hoping that you weren't distracted by that young Meatloaf Platter enough to take him back to your place. You deserve better and I'll just leave it at that before you tell me not to play dad to you. There's no need to call me back. I'll see you Sunday." Carrie smiled as she unzipped her dress. Paul was almost as protective as her brother but it was sweet to know there was someone who cared about her who didn't have to because they were blood.

Carrington knew Paul had been joking back at the diner about Sam killing her but it brought up mixed feelings in the woman. On one hand, she'd looked into Sam's eyes and while it wasn't a scientifically proven method, she didn't see a killer in them. And she'd looked into the eyes of killers before. She'd also been blinded by trust and assumptions before. She'd been killed before. Of course, Paul had no way of knowing any of this because she hadn't told him. She hadn't told anyone. It was a past that she had left behind and didn't care to go back to.

Slipping the dress off her body and throwing it in the laundry, she made her way to bathroom, wanting to wash off the smell of grease and meat off her body. Suddenly, traces of Sam's cologne touched her nose. She wished he wasn't so nice. She wanted to find some superficial problem with the guy she could use to not like him. Or at least something that made her think of him less often. Maybe it wasn't such a bad thing, just thinking about him, she thought as she removed her undergarments and turned on the water. After all, it didn't mean anything.

Carrington didn't wait for it to warm, stepping into the cold stream, actually enjoying the chilling effect before the water began to warm her. She washed her hair, scrubbed her face and started to wash herself quite methodically until Sam wove into her mind again as she thought about his large, warm hands, slightly calloused, as the soaped her body. She pressed her lips together, trying to keep the thoughts of the handsome Kentuckian out of her head. Why he had left suck an impression upon her, she didn't know, she couldn't tell.

She knew that thinking about the young blonde man was pointless with the way she kept people from getting close. She closed her eyes and saw Sam's, looking into hers with that easy smile and something more. There was always something more behind what was on the surface. Some people might have thought him slow just because he was southern but he was a well mannered and intelligent. Carrie didn't want to like him but she did. Her mind kept wandering back to him. Every time she tried to convince herself that it wasn't something she wanted, her mind whispered that it was.

The blonde tuned off the shower, sighing deeply. She didn't want to get involved with someone right then. At least she hadn't, for a long time but Sam…it was a circle for her. She kept coming back to and she thought if it lasted any longer without resolution she would go mad. If she questioned herself honestly and answered in the same way, she wanted to find out what more lay beneath the surface. She found herself wanting him, not physically but emotionally and as a friend. Why couldn't she accept that? She wrote people off with less deliberation so why couldn't she just accept that maybe this guy was worth a chance?

He was always very kind to her, always willing to offer her a soft smile or a hand and always wanting to discuss a book or music or something that made her feel like his friend. She never felt like he just saw her as an object and that…that was sort of frightening. Carrie wasn't sure what to do with that. She was used to being seen as just her body but not as a person and certainly not as a person that a nice man was interested in. But she knew that driving herself insane over this wasn't the solution. She consoled herself in knowing that perhaps nothing would come of this. Perhaps something would come of it and that might be okay too. It made her smile, the thought of something good coming out of this. She didn't know though if she was more afraid of things not working out or them not working out. But for now she would be okay with knowing that nothing had happened yet. And so her dreams of Sam that night didn't bother her.


	3. If She Wants Me

**Title**: If She Wants Me

**Author**: nyxie9

**Disclaimer**: Looks like I still don't own anything.

**Comic**: x-men

**Pairing/Characters**: Sam Guthrie/OC

**Rating**: R just to be safe

**Summary**: Part 3 of DCW. What's Sam thinking?

* * *

"If I could do just one near perfect thing I'd be happy

They'd write it on my grave, or when they scattered my ashes

On second thoughts I'd rather hang about and be there with my best friend If she wants me"

* * *

If She Wants Me 

Sam ran his finger over the name and numbers she'd written on the order ticket. Carrie. If he closed his eyes, he could conjure up that sweet, woodsy perfume of hers that was both feminine and rich. He could hear her bell-like laugh and feel the warmth of her hand against his. He carefully transcribed the number in his old address book, worried that it might evaporate from between his fingers

It was more likely that he'd smear the number or tear it in his manhandling of the delicate scrawl on the rough paper. Sam felt almost giddy about the fact that she had given him her number. He had wanted to kiss her back at the diner but he resisted. He had wanted to call her the moment he left but knew she was still inside and would probably be a bit turned off by his over eagerness.

Sam actually sat in his truck in the parking lot, gratefully covered in shadows so as not to look like a stalker. He wanted to make sure nothing happened to her. Plus he liked to watch her work, watch her move. He hoped that didn't sound too strange or perverse. It wasn't that he got a sexual thrill out of it, he just liked it. Sam hadn't gone as far as to follow her home, certain that if he had, it constituted stalking. But he made sure that after she finished cleaning up the diner that she got out safely. It was, after all, gentlemanly thing to do.

He didn't like the idea of her walking home alone but who was he to escort her. She didn't know him really and his proclivity to being watchful of people he cared for would come off as over eager or worse. The young Kentuckian knew that he had a habit of being protective, over protective according to his siblings and former girlfriends. Still sometimes they needed protection and there was something about Carrie, something that told him she needed to be protected too.

There was no outward clue as to what it was. Maybe it was her fresh faced appearance. Maybe it was her petite frame and short stature. Maybe it had nothing to do with her looks. He knew looks could be deceiving. Maybe it was something deep down. He was drawn to women like that. Lila, Tabby…they both in their own ways held a bit of the wounded warrior mystique. Even some of the women he befriended. He offered safety to some women and that drew them in.

He supposed for him it was about needing to be needed. And being dependable, strong and supportive was something he was good at, yearned to perfect. He was the oldest of his siblings, he had been the one the younger members of the New Mutants looked up to when they all first started and it came with the territory. It hadn't been until recently that he had been the youngest and perhaps he was trying to regain that feeling of authority.

During the entire drive home, he thought about her, couldn't get her off his mind. And now his thoughts weren't just of her ugly dress or greasy apron or mustering the courage to ask her out or her blueberry pie. It wasn't about her feelings on Stranger in a Strange or Cat's Cradle. His thought were focused on getting her out of that ugly blue dress or maybe eating that delicious blueberry pie of her trim body. He hadn't even been out with her yet. A part of him thought it obtuse to think about her like that at this point.

Still she was a beautiful woman and he was a normal, healthy male. Why shouldn't he think about her physically? How could he not? The way the fabric of her dress pulled across her ass when she bent over, the way her breasts looked like they could pop out any minute; there were thousands of other reasons he could see her as a sexy woman. Maybe he'd been single too long. He knew her scent, knew her skin would be soft, her mouth pliable and yielding, knew her voice would be whispered gently and hot against his ear if he kissed her neck. He could envision her trembling beneath him, slack and glowing.

Sam felt that he was putting the cart before the horse. He hadn't even kissed her. But God how he wanted to. They'd spent nearly six months playing this game where he'd come into the diner and chicken out when he had an opportunity to ask her out. He didn't know why he had been hesitant. She was so sweet when he did ask her out. Well, he though, she had always been sweet but it was reassuring. It wasn't Carrie's beauty that made him want her. There was just something about her, something he didn't entirely understand that drew him towards her. And he didn't even care to analyze it right then. He liked the feeling and thought it was about time that he felt this way again.

The prominent tightening of his jeans served as a discomforting reminder of the fact that he was still single and would have to deal with his fantasies of Carrie on his own. God, she wasn't even trying to be provocative. Lila and Tabby had both gone to lengths at times to attract him and keep him with displays of their bodies, not that he had minded. He certainly wouldn't mind seeing Carrie in something…sexy. But he had only seen Carrie in that ugly blue dress and primly bleached apron that would be covered in grease stains and bits of food at the end of the evening. That was not the sexiest thing in the world. Yet, there she was, ranking with some of the best femme fatales he knew.

Sam liked to imagine that when his momma had spoken of him needing to meet a nice girl that she meant someone like Carrie. Sure he still needed to get to know the blonde waitress more to be sure but there something there. It wasn't just because she worked for tips so she wasn't rude to him, not any more. She didn't swap books with anyone else, at least not that he'd seen and she never had the same talks with anyone he'd seen. Her smiles always felt like they were just for him when she'd lean on the counter to exchange a joke or an idea with him.

He wanted to think that all of her interactions with him were just for him. Maybe he didn't see it when she did it with other people. Maybe she made sure he didn't. That just didn't ring true to him. She was polite but she wasn't false in her interactions with people. He could read that much about her. Sure, there was something more to her than what he saw in that diner and maybe he'd find something he didn't like but Sam wanted to find out.

The young blond couldn't imagine that there was something insincere behind that bright smile and those deep blue eyes which looked almost fittingly out of place with her golden brown skin. Sam's mind went back to fantasy again, wondering what she looked like with her hair down, with her face done up with makeup aside and dressed in something other than a uniform. She would have to look beautiful because she did without doing anything, without accentuating herself. So if she tried, he knew she would have to be stunning.

It wasn't as if there were a shortage of beautiful women in his life both available and unavailable but this waitress wasn't like any of them. It was what she didn't let him see that set her apart. She was a normal girl. Maybe that was one of the things he liked best. She was beautiful and kind and normal. Once again that dreamy smile shifted over his lips as he thought about her outside of the diner.


	4. Piazza, New York Catcher

Piazza, New York Catcher

**Author**: nyxie9

**Disclaimer**: I own nothing but I did manage to pay for my own dinner! Yay grad school!

**Comic**: x-men but at this point I'm ruling it AU because I clearly refuse to use their time line.

**Spoilers**: none

**Pairing/Characters**: Sam Guthrie/OC

**Rating**: R just to be safe

**Summary**: Part 4 of DCW. The much anticipated (or not) date.

* * *

"Elope with me Miss Private and we'll sail around the world

I will be your Ferdinand and you my wayward girl

How many nights of talking in hotel rooms can you take?

How many nights of limping round on pagan holidays?

Oh elope with me in private and we'll set something ablaze

A trail for the devil to erase

San Francisco's calling us, the Giants and Mets will play

Piazza, New York catcher, are you straight or are you gay?"

* * *

Piazza, New York Catcher

He hadn't felt this nervous in sometime, even facing up against the likes Sinister and Apocalypse. He regarded his cell phone with misdirected distain as if it taunted him now with an insurmountable task. Sam Guthrie knew he could do this. All he had to do was dial the number and talk to the woman he'd talked to numerous times before. She was just a tiny blonde waitress, barely 5'4 and he was certain he could bench press her. He'd been gutted before quite literally so if rejection was what he was avoiding, it could hardly hurt more than that. He faced more frightening things in his life, lived through worse than whatever his fears surrounding the girl might be.

Sam dialed the number once, determined and promptly hung up the phone before it rang. "She's the one who gave you her number. She wants you t'call her." He said to himself, picking up the phone again and firmly pressing each key as if to show them who was in charge here. The young Kentuckian felt more courage when he didn't hang up before the first ring. The phone rang. It rang again. And once more before her voice drifted over the line like a soft summer breeze. "Hello? Oh God damn it!" He heard before a loud clatter and several more distant curses. "You okay Carrie?" Sam asked after a moment, not knowing if he could hear him or if she was alright. "Sam?" questioned the lovely voice on the other line. He closed his eyes as he imagined her lips saying his name. "Yeah. Are you alright?"

She sighed and chuckled all at the same time. "I'm fine. I just got out of the shower and dropped the phone. How are you?" "Ah'm good, uh, good." Of course now he was trying to stop picturing her fresh out of the shower. Sam could so easily see tendrils of blonde hair clinging to her forehead and neck, the beading of water on her chest, arms, and legs, a pink flush accentuating her tan skin. Was she even wrapped in a towel of had she run right for the phone? Was she waiting for his call? He was lost in his own thoughts about this girl and it left an opening of silence on the line. She bit her lip, waiting for Sam to continue, not knowing why he called but glad that he had.

Pressing her lips together, she decided to bypass the idle banter and just skip right to her reason for wanting to talk to him. "Well good to hear. Um, I'm glad you called because I realized I didn't have your number and actually, well I'm hoping you this isn't too short of notice. I realize you probably have plans but I have tickets to the Mets game tonight. You wouldn't be interested in going would you?" _She_ had asked him out. Well, that was easy, he thought. It allayed many of his fears, in fact he was elated because he still hadn't mustered the nerve to do it himself, nor had he come up with a decent plan in the two days he'd given himself to do so. "Yeah, yeah that'd be great. Ah, Ah was actually callin' t'ask you out."

"Were you now?" Carrie toyed with the small gold cross that lay on her chest, flattered that even if she had brashly invited him out that he had planned to do the same. "Yeah." He said somewhat uncertainly. "Hmm…so what would we have done had you gotten the chance to ask me out first?" "Well uh, Ah hadn't really gotten past dinner an' a movie. Ah had been tryin' t'figure out what Ah could do t'impress you but…nothin' seemed right an' finally Ah just decided that Ah wanted t' see you again." It made her smile and made her feel a little giddier. "I suspect I would have enjoyed that too." "Yeah but…Ah don't know why Ah couldn't think o' somethin' a bit more creative. Ah didn't know you liked baseball." He said after a pause.

"To be honest, I've never seen a game before. I just…I wanted the chance to see you and I…you're not a Mets fan, are you?" She was feeling nervous now, worried that her gesture had gone astray. "Nah Ah am, I just like the idea that you wanted t'see me again." God why did he just blurt things out with her? "Are you sure you wanna go t'a game? Ah mean if you're not into baseball, Ah don't wanna make you go." "No, I'd like to go and Paul gave me the tickets and…well, I mean as long as you don't mind that I've really know clue what'll be goin' on." "No, not at all. Ah mean, basketball's more my thing but Ah know enough baseball t'get by." It was an underestimation of his still, as his daddy had practically raised him one the game. He knew the ins and outs better than most but he didn't want to tell Carrie that for some reason. "Good. Are you sure you want to go?"

"Of course. Ah…are you interested in goin' out t'dinner first?" He asked hoping to make at least one gesture of courtship towards her. "Sure." "Ah could pick you up at what, 5 an' we could grab an early dinner. Ah know this great little Italian place in Queens." She smiled feeling like a girl for the first time in a long time. When she thought about this was practically her first date. She'd been married, had one night stands but she'd never really dated. Agreeing, Carrie gave him her address and they chatted a while longer before hanging up to get ready for their date. She was decidedly nervous and completely unsure if that was the right emotion.

She'd never been nervous with her ex-husband but that was because it was practically an arranged marriage. They'd been introduced by their families and it seemed only logical that they get married. It hadn't been the best of arrangement from the beginning and looking back now she knew she should have done something to stop it but even now didn't know what that could have been. "Let it go, mate. You're insane but you're still going out on a date, now shape up!" She mumbled to herself as she placed the phone back on the decorative stand. Now wasn't the time to think about her troubled past. She was trying to have a real life now. For someone who was used to feeling so self assured, so in control she found it odd that she relished in walking that edge of where she wasn't.

She knew it was an illusion because she could call it off at any point in time, pull herself back but for once, she didn't want to. The young man had this strange hold on her. Hold wasn't the right word. It was more like an influence, a draw, he fostered in her a need to enjoy him. And she intended to. The time she spend critiquing herself in the mirror, trying to apply just enough make up to look as if she weren't wearing any, doing her hair to look like she hadn't spent the better part of an hour on it and trying on then rejecting half her closet in order to present herself in a carelessly casual manner had flown by in what seemed like a matter of minutes. And all too soon came the knocking at her door.

So after hours of deliberation she pulled on the nearest pair of jeans and top she could find as she had ruled out going in just her bra and panties was a tad too casual. However when she opened the door to reveal the handsome Kentuckian, she felt like she could have thrown on a burlap sack and still would have made the man smile. "Hey." She said tucking her hands in the back pockets of her jeans just so they wouldn't shake. The blonde wished she had come up with something slightly more eloquent than her terse 'hey' but that was all she could muster with the excitement and titillation swirling in her stomach. Sam was right; he thought to himself, he knew she would look beautiful outside the diner. Her hair held a slight curl to it as it came to kiss the sides of her face and caress her shoulders.

Rather than the blue polyester dress he'd always seen her in, now she wore a Kelly green ¾ length shirt that flowed delicately around her curves and a pair of jeans. "Hey," He replied unsure if there was any blood in his head at this point. "You wanna come in a minute? I still need to put my shoes on." Sam nodded, cursing himself for not bringing her anything. He should have at least brought her flowers. She deserved flowers but it slipped his mind. The young man wanted tonight to be perfect; he'd made sure he was cleanly shaven and freshly showered, even ironed his favorite blue and green stripped shirt and wore his lucky boxers. He'd washed his truck and cleaned the whole damn thing out. Small gestures he knew, certainly overkill for a ballgame but he was hopping she'd notice them. Well, she probably wouldn't notice the boxers on the first date but who knew.

"You look nice." He finally said, standing awkwardly in the door way as she scurried about to look for her shoes. "Thanks, you too." she called from the other room along with the clatter of what he only guessed was shoes. It reminded him of his sisters and the thought made him smile in some weird way. "Sorry I'm not quite ready. Time got the best of me, I suppose." "That's all right, Ah'm a bit early Ah guess." The trim blonde finally emerged from what he could only assume was an avalanche of shoes. "Ready?" She asked him, still looking as perfect as if she hadn't climbed her way out the shoe storm, adjusting the green ballet flats she now wore. "If you are." She nodded as she grabbed her purse and keys from the lovely hand painted chest they sat atop.

"I hope you don't mind driving." Sam shook his head. "Nah, Ah figured Ah would." The pretty girl smiled up at him and he felt the butterflies stir in his stomach again. Carrie locked and shut her door before the pair walked out of the apartment complex to his truck. Gentlemanly to the end, he opened the door for her and extended his hand to help her up. The butterflies made themselves known again as their hands met. The waitress really was quite short, he noted, without the aid of any sort of heel. It was still light out, early for dinner but Sam was hungry as he hadn't eaten all day. He'd been too nervous but now in her company, he felt oddly at ease; full of anticipation but composed about it.

It was more excitement than anything. He had to admit, it had been sometime since he'd been out on a proper date. As for Carrie, she was torn between childlike eagerness and sheer terror. For a moment she calculated the potential success of just bolting from the pickup cab but decided against it as the blond man knew where she lived and worked and could likely find her. She asked herself again why she wanted to attempt to have a normal relationship. She didn't do normal well. Normal wasn't even what she sought in life, not truly. She pretended, she hoped but her pursuits were usually cut short. And she had accepted that normal just wasn't for her.

Yet here she was. She hadn't slept with him or made an idiot out of herself and he hadn't ditched her somewhere or tried to rape her so, she thought, it was going pretty well, all things considered. He was a nice guy, Carrington reminded herself. Her grim assessments didn't include the gentlemanly conduct he exhibited. He was not cut from the same cloth as the men she found herself in the company of since her marriage and he certainly wasn't her husband, that much was clear. A somewhat nervous smile was exchanged between the pair as Sam got in the truck and turned the key in the ignition. The blonde tilted her head to the side, looking out the window a moment as the young man pulled out of the parking spot.

There was a heavy silence in the cab but it wasn't uncomfortable, surprisingly. "Max is the most popular dog name, followed by Lucky and Princess." Sam cast a glance at her with raised eyebrow not entirely sure what had spawned that line of thought. "Sorry," She said, knowing her statement was awkward and ill timed, relating to nothing. She had wanted to break the ice but suspected she just sounded crazy. "It's um, a conversation starter of sort. I just thought, uh…" She sighed heavier than a girl her size should have been able to, "I haven't been on a date in a while. I'm feeling rather out of place." Sam laughed, relived. Her disclosure made him feel more at ease and the majority of the tension of having to compete with more impressive men left him.

"Thank goodness, Ah thought it was just me. Ah was worried Ah'd hafta work my way through the line o'men seekin' your attention." That made her laugh now as she easer her grip on the truck door, not even aware that she had been white knuckling the handle as she was. "That line is closer to a dash. Trust me, I'm…I don't tend to date." "Then why'd go out with me?" He asked solemnly, hoping that it wasn't a pity date. He knew she was aware of his infatuation with her and he hoped that it wasn't because of that instead of her interest in him. "I don't know. I mean normally, I wouldn't have but…you ever get the feeling that you just need to do something or you'll regret it later? Well I kinda felt that way about this."

"Oh no pressure there." He said sarcastically. "Don't…there shouldn't be. I mean…I don't know what I mean but I'd like to just have a good time with you tonight." There was something charming about her nervousness now and her earnest. Sam licked his lips, his mouth feeling awfully dry all of the sudden. "Ah'd like t'have a good time with you too. Ah don't think Ah have any interestin' fact or trivia t'exchange with you." "That's probably good because my attempt was bad, very bad." Sam wanted to kiss her now more than he had before and he got the feeling that would only increase throughout the night.

He was right; all through dinner he couldn't take his eyes off her. He found her more and more lovely as she opened up to him a bit, the couple sharing stories about places they'd been, their favorite music, television shows, books, all the usual first date banter. He was delighted to find out her love for the X-files and she had confessed a crush on A.D. Skinner to his amusement. He found out that for a small town waitress she amazingly spoke nine languages which she attributed to her nomadic upbringing and that she had been married once before, at the age of 18, barely, for a short 18 months.

That was when she estimated her last proper date had been, a fact that made her cheeks redden and he suspected she hadn't meant to tell him. But he eased her fear by telling him about when he thought Lila had died and his tumultuous relationship with Tabitha, even that she had cheated on him. "Ah've never really had a bitter breakup, hurt feelin's some but sometime's Ah think Ah'd like to try it the other way. It would make it seem like things really ended. Weird huh?" "No, not really. I mean I have never doubted t he end of my relationships but then once you've destroyed all the plates in your house, what else is there?" It earned her a small but endearing smile from the man.

"Yeah, Ah guess. Still, Ah mean Ah guess both situations have their upside." "I could passionately break up with you now. This services seems like it would break well." "Hey now…Ah'm serious. Is that why you got divorce? Too much passion?" He wasn't sure why he'd asked her that now. It was hardly first date conversation. But they had shared enough vagueness, touching upon truth that night that she figured one more wouldn't hurt."I suppose you could put it that way. We were both people of a certain temperament and we were just too young, too impulsive to handle things well." Sam smiled a bit.

"A little impulsiveness can be a good thing sometimes, can't it?" It made her laugh, his benign flirting. "Well there's a difference between getting married and say, going on a date with a cute farm boy." This was going better than Sam could have possibly planned. "So…Ah guess we won't be endin' up at the Chapel O'Love t'night?" "Decidedly, no. Sorry Mr. Guthrie if that was your plan." "Nah, not on a first date." "Good because I'd have to get distant real fast if I thought you actually liked me." It was playful but at the same time, he could hear the hint of truth.

"Ah think you're far too amiable t'stay distant," he said kindly. "That…is not the usual case. I just…I like you Sam. Maybe it's because you act with…integrity around me." It made him smile. It was a clumsily formal compliment but it was fitting coming from her and meant quite a lot. "Ah guess you catch more flies with honey, right?" The petite blonde only smile as they ate in silence for a while, basking in the comfortable elegance of the restaurant. "Skinner? You had a crush on Skinner?" He asked after a while, disbelieving her claim.

"Well sure, I mean didn't you ever see that episode where he first took off shirt. The man is ripped." "Yeah but he's a kinda old an' bald." She shook her head, holding her glass of wine and using her fork to make her point as a woman of fine tastes could. "Sam, darling, there is a remarkable appeal that an older man can have and they say baldness can be caused by too much testosterone. He was very masculine and had that brooding mystique. It's quite attractive." "That's what you look f'r in a man?" "Well, in a fictionally based fantasy yes. But of course a real man is more than just a good body hidden under a suit and a bad ass attitude."

She said with a hidden smile as she looked down, blushing ever so slightly. That was how Sam always wanted to remember her on their first date; her hair sweeping beside her cheeks, a rosy glow on them, twinkling blue eyes and a shy smile all illuminated by golden candle light. "Ah always had a crush on Princess Leia." He confessed. "You mean with the cinnamon bun? From Star Wars?" He nodded, expecting her to poke fun at him for that. "I've never seen it." "You've never seen Star Wars?" She shook her head again. "You speak nine languages an' you've never seen Star Wars?" "Nope." "Oh we are so gonna hafta change that."

Her head tilted as a thoughtful smile touched her delicate face. He thought she might comment on the fact that he was already planning as second date when they hadn't finished the first one. But she said nothing about it, only looking at him with that same solicitous smile before the waitress came back to their table, filling their water glasses. "You know," Carrie said after the other woman left, "I quite enjoy not having to bring people food right now." "Ah'm glad." "Okay so, you are going to have to tell how the hell baseball is played before we get there so I don't look like a complete and utter moron." "Alright but Ah promise you won't." "I'm quite good at it."

"Well you're hot an' eventually the folks around us'll be drunk so even if you didn't know anything Ah think you'd be fine." She shook her head, not entirely sure how to approach that statement so she diverted it. "C'mon, I'd at least like to know more than I do right now, which to give you an idea my basic working of the game as it stands is the man hits a ball with a stick and run around a square anti-clockwise." "Well, that is basically what happens." The young man when on to describe the all American game to the British woman, amazed at how intently she listened to him.

And throughout the game he realized that for the most part she didn't even care about what was going on down on the diamond. She had gone to be with him and picked it because she thought he would like it. That fact made him enjoy the game all the more. After a few innings she stopped turning her head towards him in question of when to cheer or not and he was sure that she'd gotten the hang of the game for the most part. All the better that the Mets won that night but they could have lost and it still would have been the best game he'd ever seen just because of seeing it with the lovely waitress.

"So, how was your first game?" Sam asked as left the stadium, his arm slung lightly over her shoulders. "It was fun, a great deal of fun." Her head rested against his shoulder as they walked back to his truck and he wished their night would never end. She suspected that the reason she had such a good time was because of the man she was with. The young man had explained the ins and outs of the game to her with such kindness she thought and he didn't seem to mind that she didn't understand what the hell a clutch hitter was if it might not exist or even if she sucked at doing the wave. She knew he was just as glad to be with her as she was to be with him.

Her slight body was warm and tucked tightly against his as he tightened his arm around her shoulder a bit more. It was one of the best first dates he'd had. There was no drama or unexpected ambush; it was just calm and playful. He still wanted to kiss her, didn't know if he should or not. Did the first date rule apply to this situation? And as if she picked up on his thoughts about her, she spoke up. "Sam, can I ask you something?" "Sure." "Are you going to kiss me tonight or do I have to wait for our next date?" He grinned, entirely certain that he looked quite goofy in doing so and just hoped that he didn't do something completely nerdy like snort or utter 'aw shucks' in front of the beautiful woman.

"Ah was hopin' you'd let me kiss you t'night but that Ah might also get t'do the same on our next date." The stopped walking a moment, illuminated in the overly bright glow of stadium lights. "Well, I suppose that all depends on if you're any good at it." She teased. Hell, at that point she didn't even care if he was good or not. She just liked being with him. Sam leaned down to her, putting his large hand behind her head and angled it slightly as he dipped his head to hers. Their lips met innocently at first but her lips parted invitingly enough for him to push forward, sliding his tongue along her lips before she let him enter her mouth. Her slippery tongue met his, sparing with his swiftly.

Carrington's hand laced into his wily blond hair, her other hand braced on his chest, mostly to gauge if her assessment of his body was close to accurate. And she was not disappointed. A well muscled body was hidden under his clothing. Her blood roared through her ears louder than the fans could have cheered. She was surprised that she could stand without assistance. The young man smelled better up close than the hints of cologne could ever have led her to imagine. God, he thought, she tasted good. Her lips were soft and her mouth was impossibly wet and warm. It made his mind wander to thoughts of what other parts of her body might be like.

This was not going to be easy but it sure was fun. He didn't want to the kiss to end as it made his entire body tingle, made him more excited and eager about their next meeting. "So?" Sam asked as the reluctantly parted, "Do Ah get a second date?" Her eyelids fluttered and she had to pause to gather her thoughts. "I think so." She whispered. "But maybe you should try again, just to make sure it's not a fluke." He didn't need to be asked again and wouldn't take the chance that she'd change her mind, so he kissed her again.


	5. Nice Day For a Sulk

**Title**: Nice Day for a Sulk

**Author**: nyxie9

**Disclaimer**: Oh the things I don't own. Some of them are found here.

**Comic**: x-men, AU-DWC universe

**S****poilers**: none

**Pairing/Characters**: Sam Guthrie/OC

**Rating**: R

**Summary**:Part 5 of DCW series.Secrets are revealed.

* * *

" Nice day for a sulk

The girl smells of milk

Her horsey teeth explode around us

And we run for cover she found us

In the cheapo bar with a bag of chips

Nice day for a mood

The forecast is good

The kids are melting in the doorway

Keep the gang together

There's no way will you ever be misunderstood by me"

* * *

Nice Day for a Sulk

Sam looked out the window giving a heavy sigh. Under other circumstances he might have admired the clouds whizzing by, wishing he was playing amongst them or imagine the lives of the people they were passing over; simply allowing the inane thoughts to purge concerns from his mind. However, his mind wouldn't allow his thoughts to waver. He had been unusually silent and stoic. His hand ran repetitively over the course stubble on his chin. It didn't take a genius to see something was on the young man's mind. Only Sam, and of course any telepath knew that it was the girl he'd been seeing. At the mere thought of her, a smile drifted over his lips and lit his eyes with affection. Things between them had been going surprisingly well, considering. She was…perfect.

He had wanted to pull out all the stops for her, after their first date. It wasn't because he felt like he had to. He knew that she was a laid back girl but she'd told him that she liked opera, theatre, music, art and he wanted to show her that they could share that. The young man took her out to elegant restaurants, the opera, museums and he had utterly embarrassed himself trying to impress her that way. It wasn't that she hadn't enjoyed herself but she had always seemed to have one leg up on him when it came to class. She had a better pallet when it came to wine and more extensive knowledge. She could translate the entire opera for him and knew far more history on the artists and their pieces.

And to top it off, he couldn't even make her think that he wasn't out of his depths. There had been a time when he had wanted to surprise her with depth and sophistication. Sam Guthrie wasn't dumb but he was a salt of the earth man and the life he had led hadn't afforded the same things hers had. Yet, she would only touch his hand and tell him to stop trying because she already liked him, was already impressed by him and if this wasn't his scene they could leave and do something else. He could have taken advantage of that but he only asked if she was having a good time. And if she was, he would always stay.

It was during one of these excursions that she revealed that she hadn't lived in a house with proper electricity until she was 10 and that the only reason she knew so much about wine was that she came from a family of winemakers. Her family had vineyards in Portugal now but it had all started on the little volcanic island of Fogo she grew up on. They had a 120 year history of making wines in her family. It had provided her a unique upbringing and when she was sent to Portugal she was promptly immerged in the finer things to purge the barefoot island girl from her makeup. As she liked to joke, it only half worked.

He didn't know what to anticipate with the woman. Still, he bought tickets to the next season of the symphony. Because she liked to go. And she got Nicks tickets. The lovely blonde was becoming quite the decent basketball fan. Neither complained about the new experiences. Sam had learned about what grapes when into what wines and Carrie learned to scream insult about people's mommas. He found himself being casual and overwhelmed at the same time in her presence, kind of like sleeping on a rollercoaster. He was comfortable with her and yet he wasn't totally composed. He knew he didn't have to impress her, he just wanted to. Perhaps it was because he had yet to tell her his little secret, wanted her to have get to know him, and care for him because of who he was. Then maybe it wouldn't worry so much about her rejecting him because of what he was.

He remembered the quirky look in her eyes when he stopped by the diner to beg her forgiveness for standing her up. Again. It was the third time that month and it was only the third month that they'd been dating. But he didn't want to cancel their date over the phone this time as much for himself as for her. Sam didn't want to stand her up anyway but least of all in a way that implied he was trying to get out of seeing her. He found himself thinking about her more and more. He had been grateful that the majority of his X-men duties hadn't made him stray too far or end up in some other dimension recently. Sam had found the time for her somehow, mostly at the loss of sleep and loss of downtime. It had garnered some sermons from some of the older X-men. Maybe if they knew her but for some reason he hadn't told anyone he was seeing Carrie. She was his mysterious girl. Certainly they knew he was seeing someone but…he reckoned that he just wanted to keep her to himself, keep her secret as long as he could. Not because he didn't want them to meet her but Carrie meeting them could be problematic if she wasn't prepared. The young man couldn't help thinking about her and recalling his relationship shortcomings with Lila and Tabby due to his responsibilities. And they knew he was an X-man. Carrie didn't.

So before standing her up this time, knowing it wasn't the last time, he brought her hydrangeas because they were unique, like the girl and she had a fondness for them. The woman smiled when he handed the small potted shrub to her with all the stiff armed grace of a teenager giving his first girlfriend a corsage before prom. She had touched the petals softly, thoughtfully. "Hydrangea macrophylla. So…what now am I supposed to understand?" She had asked and the young man went wide eyed. "Ah…Ah don't know. I just reckoned y'liked 'em and they're different. Ah just thought they were more interestin' than regular ol' roses. Is a potted plant too weird?"

His smiled faltered a bit as nervousness crept in. The way his accent thickened when he got flustered made her stomach quiver and her heart trip. Carrie wondered for a moment what else would make that drawl thicken. Carrie was still smiling as the slight blush crept over his cheeks. Sam was reminded of her strange ways of surprising him. Her reactions were never the ones he planned on getting and she always seemed to be as step or two ahead of him in her thoughts. His girl tugged on his collar, pulling him closer over the counter to place a kiss against his lips, savoring the warmth of his lips, the scrape of his stubble and the way his cologne played against her nose.

"I love them because they're from you." She whispered as she touched his face. The creep of pink now turned to stain his cheeks completely red. Feeling a bit of embarrassment herself, Carrie realized when he was sweetly shy it made the butterflies in her stomach flutter all the more, just as much as his shows of courage and strength. Her fingers lingered on his jaw a moment longer. "Hydrangeas typically mean 'thank you for understanding.'" The lovely girl explained. Her eyes didn't lie; she didn't care what they meant as long as he was the one giving them. "Ah didn't know that but Ah'm hoping that you do."

The brightness in her eyes faded slightly as she knew what was coming. It surprised he. The look that passed over her face made Sam hate to tell her they'd have to reschedule. The hand on his face turned and she ran her knuckles down his cheek. "If I didn't know better, I'd say you had another girl on the side." Carrie teased as she pulled back a bit, worrying about him seeing her disappointment. "Nah, Ah wouldn't do that. You're the only girl f'r me. Ah…hafta go outta town again f'r work, right away. Ah'm gonna hafta cancel on you, sweetie. Ah'm sorry." She frowned a bit, touching the soft petals of the flowers again, noting the difference between the petals and Sam's stubble. "I do understand. I won't say I'm not disappointed though." "Me too, you have no idea. Ah'll call you as soon as Ah get back, Ah promise."

She pressed her lips together as he reached for her, drawing her in for another kiss. Sam knew he should have told her a long time ago about what he really did, why he had to leave so often. Maybe that would make leaving her easier but he didn't think so. He was certain that she didn't believe he was a security consultant. It was almost not a lie but it still was and she deserved better. The girl closed her eyes, uncaring that she was at work while he kissed her. She enjoyed the feel of his lips against hers. "Ah should be back 'fore the week's out." She just nodded, lamenting the little red dress that was hanging on her bathroom door waiting for tonight. "Ah'm sorry." He said again.

"S'okay. I think I can manage to do without you for a while." "Ah don't think Ah can say the same." Carrie's eyes darted down as a gentle blush stained her tan skin. "Go on, country boy, before I get all mushy over you." Sam smiled and kissed her again. He knew he had to leave before he swept her into his arms and ran off with her or convinced himself not to leave. "Ah'll miss you. Ah already miss you." "I'll miss you too." Sam let his hand drop away from her face and she set the hydrangeas next to the cash register. "Bye Sam." "Bye Carrie." And because she wanted one more touch of his warm hands, she vaulted over the Formica counter and chased him out the door, turning and kissing him quite passionately on the street corner.

Sam had stumbled back as he caught her slight body, not because of her weight but because of the speed that she flew at him. Sam held the tiny waitress off the ground as he pulled her against him. Her hands framed his handsome face as she kissed him. The man closed his eyes enjoying the warmth of her body, the feeling of her genuinely wanting him and he wished like hell he didn't have to leave. But what he wanted and what he had to do were incongruent. He half expected her to whisper that she loved him, wanted her to tell him because if he died…he wanted to know for sure. Of course he didn't tell her either. He didn't know why.

And he missed her even now, knowing that he was being sped away from her. He would be much happier just sitting with her watching movies in their sweats, drinking beer and eating pizza. She was just as lovely in her pajamas as she was in eveningwear. Sam smiled. That probably wasn't an accurate assessment of her appearance but it didn't matter to him. He loved her. He hadn't told her but he did, he was certain of it. Carrie. He knew he had to shake her from his head and focus on the mission so with a sigh he pulled his goggles down over eyes and flexed his fist, cracking his knuckles to distract himself. It was going to be a long night.


	6. To Be Myself Completely

Title: To Be Myself Completely  
Author: nyxie9  
Disclaimer: Oh the things I don't own. Many of them are found here.  
Universe: AU- X-men  
Spoilers: none  
Pairing/Characters: Sam Guthrie/OC  
Rating: R  
Summary: Chapter 6 of the DCW series- After a mission gone wrong, Sam shows up on Carrie's doorstep.

* * *

"Well my heart has fallen down  
Thought I'd talked myself around  
But to be myself completely I've just got to let you down"

* * *

To Be Myself Completely

Carrie had settled down for the evening with her favorite horrible movie, Plan 9 from Outer Space. She'd gone to every midnight showing of the thing and theorized that if people dressed up for the thing she'd be dressed as Vampira. Okay so she had done it for Halloween. Every Halloween. People just thought she liked vampires. It was some kind of guilty pleasure and it made her think of Sam. He would probably take a great deal of enjoyment in sharing it with her. She missed him. Every time he left she seemed to miss him more. She had her bowl of popcorn, her pint of strawberry ice-cream and a casual disregard for ladylike manners. The clock chimed. Seven o'clock. She sighed deeply, a few months ago, being in her pajamas watching a bad movie shoveling snack food into her face by herself this early in the evening wouldn't have bothered her. Right then however, she wasn't even in the mood for her spread of junk food.

But since she'd met Sam, she felt like she was missing out on something more. She was missing Sam. Had he been with her, doing the exact same thing, she wouldn't have felt nearly as empty. He had pointed out a hole in her life simply by so easily filling it. Being alone had served a purpose but that sweet country boy had made if feel pathetic. She both loved and hated that about the young blond man. He made her want a real life. Carrie shook her head. She missed him. There wasn't another man she'd known who had affected her like this. He was amazing and in times like this it made her feel crazy, obsessed and out control. Not when she was with him, only when she felt his absence.

She wanted to be with him so much. The desire to be with another person was something Carrington Stahl had attempted to convince herself that didn't want or need. But she found that she had failed. She excelled at being solitary but now she found being with someone, being with Sam, made her feel stronger. Sighing, she realized she felt closer to this young Kentuckian than she ever had to another person short of her family. It made her wonder if all the time she'd spent trying to keep people from hurting her hadn't done just as much damage. Could she have felt this close to someone other than Sam? Of course she didn't care to test the question. She wanted Sam Guthrie. And as such, it was surprising to her that they'd waited this long to be intimate.

Their timing just hadn't been right yet. It was okay though. She enjoyed not feeling pressure and having a real relationship with him. A smile crept over her lips. It was nice. Being with Sam was like a favorite pair of slippers, comfortable and warm. But that wasn't to say that they lacked passion or desire. That was there too but it lingered between them, hung in the air until it was needed. When he kissed her, he kissed her like she was the only woman he had ever cared for. She knew there were others, that didn't bother her. There could have been so hundreds of other but as long as his touch was so caring, so gentle and his kisses were meant only for her she didn't care.

Closing her eyes, she could almost feel his warm lips on her neck, his hands wandering over her body with concern and ease. It made her smile. Part of her simply considered going to bed, perhaps taking a bath and reading a book as the movie wasn't grabbing her attention tonight, wasn't keeping her mind off the young Kentuckian. The woman scrubbed her hands over her face a moment before standing and stretching. It was then that a knocking came at the door. Her face turned up in confusion. Very few people came to her door or knew where she lived or even cared. Hesitantly, she approached the door and opened it.

"Sam?" Carrie asked the tall man at her door, confused to see him at her door, haggard and soaking wet from the rain. He stood there looking unusually disconcerting. "Are you okay?" He didn't react for some time and she thought perhaps she had either imagined him or perhaps he was injured. She reached out to touch him but he halted her hand, grabbing her wrist firmly in his large hand. He held her wrist harder than he ever had touched her. It didn't hurt her. She knew he wouldn't like knowing that he had hurt her, even inadvertently. "Can Ah come in?" He said, voice thick and grave. She nodded and opened the door further. He still held her wrist. "You're soaking wet, Sam." "Ah, Ah…walked here." "From Salem? Are you daft? C'mon…let me see if I can find you something to wear."

Carrington moved away from him, towards her bedroom, hoping something she had would fit him but Sam stopped her, pulling gently on her arm to turning her. She found herself pressed firmly against the door. His body pushed up against hers. His hands cupped her face, touching her ears and his fingers brushed her hair and he kissed her. Her heart tripped, anticipation threaded through her veins. It was a firm, frantic kiss but somehow held the tenderness of all of their others. His hands moved from her face, down her arms to hold her closer.

When he had seen her at the door looking casual and gorgeous all the same he knew he wanted her, needed to feel her warmth on his cold body. He knew she was confused, looked worried and perhaps a little scared at his unexpected arrival. Sam also knew he was making a less than reassuring appearance, tired and dripping wet. He had lied when he told her he walked there. He flew and his blast shield had kept him dry but standing outside her apartment in the community garden staring up at her window for 20 minutes in the rain was enough to make the lie convincing.

The young man had been trying to persuade himself that he should just leave, that he and Carrie weren't serious enough for her to see this, that she had better things to do but nothing sunk in. He tried to convince himself to turn around even as he stood at her door knocking but when he saw her he knew he couldn't leave and he needed to hold her. He barely listened to her questions, focusing on her face. He kissed her unlike he'd ever kissed her before. For him it was the first time a kiss wasn't playful or sweet or even sensual.

This was raw and demanding. Right then Sam didn't care about propriety. He needed to see her, needed to feel her, needed to feel human again. Yet, this wasn't how he wanted it to be or how he wanted her to think of him. He had wanted to go slow and have something resembling a normal relationship. Carrie was an ordinary girl and she deserved that. He wanted it just as much. Only right then he wasn't certain he could give that, not like this. This fact had been wearing on him for a while. Duplicity wasn't his strong suit, lying to Carrie about what he was doing, where he was wasn't easy and he was certain she didn't believe all of it. He wasn't ashamed of who or what he was but he had this nice, normal thing going on with her. And she liked him for who he was.

"Sam?" She whispered as he touched the side of her face. "What's wrong honey?" She asked brushed the wet clings of hair from his brow. There was so much concern, compassion and what he wanted to be love in her eyes. "Ah…ah just needed somewhere t'go. Ah can leave if…" "No. No, why would I make you leave? Not when…you're really worrying me, Sam. Please tell me what's wrong." Her beautiful face was etched in worry. "Ah had a bad day." She gave a slight laugh at that. "I'll say. C'mon, let's get you something dry before you catch your death." "Can Ah stay here t'night?" He asked, still holding her arm. His words were coming without his heed and he feared at any moment, she would turn him down. She turned back to him, trying to identify the cause of his duress.

Carrington nodded as she touched his lips lightly. "I've never turned you down before." Scenarios ran through her mind of what could be troubling her dear Sam and nothing good came to her. "Ah'm sorry if Ah worried you." "It's alright, you're here now." "Yeah. Sorry Ah got you wet." He said when the pretty blonde pulled away. Her lips pursed and he saw the wicked glint in her eye. "Well, Mr. Guthrie, you needn't apologize for that, ever." He wished he was in better sprits to take the bait, knowing she was trying to cheer him up. The young man only gave a half hearted smile. He was tired. "Listen, why don't you let me go and I'll find you something to wear. You can change in the bathroom. Have a shower if you like."

Sam nodded, letting her hand slip out of his grasp and watching her walk to her bedroom. Getting warm would to him good. He wanted to ask her to join him but he knew it wouldn't be what he had envisioned. He decided to shake the idea out of his as he made his way to her bathroom. The bathroom wasn't too girly, decorated with rubber duckies. There was something about it that was just so very Carrie. A huge claw foot cast iron tub flanked one wall and had been modified a shower head. He had to admit he liked what she had done to the place. His girl was quite handy.

Sam looked at himself in the mirror. He did look like hell; blonde hair matted down with water, eyes lined with darkened circles, and heavy stubble covered his face. Yeah, he could see why he had Carrie worried. He sighed, knowing he owed her a better explanation for all this but unsure of what that would be. He pulled his wet t-shirt off, letting it land on the counter next to the sink with a heavy slosh. At least he credited himself with the foresight to change out of his uniform before he came to her house. He started to unbutton his jeans when she knocked on the door. The pretty blonde cracked the door open before he had a chance to respond.

"You decent?" Even her voice was calming and reminded him of why he ended up here. "Yeah." He said as he opened the door the rest of the way. Carrie didn't know what she expected when he opened the door but for some reason a half dressed Sam wasn't on her list. Not that she was complaining. He looked good, right out a romance novel she thought. The southerner was tall and lean. His smooth chest was covered in muscles. She knew he was in good shape but didn't know that was what he was hiding beneath the cotton t-shirts and button downs. With his jeans unbuttoned like that, the thin trail of hair from his navel to his groin was visible and made her throat tighten with anticipation. He looked amazing, a handsome face, charming personality and a rock hard body.

She lowered her eyelids when she realized she was ogling him. "Um," She had to remember why she was there, aside building an illicit fantasy about the young man, his body and her shower. "Ah…" Stumbling with her words again, she turned her glance up to his face, focusing on his blue-grey eyes not sure if he noticed her reaction to him. "These…they, they should fit you. They're my brother's and he's a bit shorter than you but um, it's this or a pink chenille bathrobe." Sam chuckled a bit, wishing she didn't look so stunning with her hair hanging free, her green and blue plaid short shorts and coordinated tank top still slightly damp from their earlier embrace.

"Thanks, Carrie. Ah'm sure they'll be fine." "There's a fresh towel too. Um, let me know if you need anything." And for whatever reason he couldn't stop the words from coming out of his mouth. "Ah need you." She nodded as she bit her lip. "In the shower?" It was an innocent question, half joke; at least she didn't mean it the way it came out. Sam laughed, closing his eyes, trying to not picture her joining him in the shower, her soapy body pressed against his, her hair slicked to her face and neck and mostly trying not to let his body respond to that idea.

"Uh, wow. Ah'd really like t'say yes t'that but Ah…Ah can't, it wouldn't be right." Looking back down, she chewed through her lower lip. She knew that having sex with him just because he was…whatever he was wasn't the best idea. "I'm not sure if I should feel touched or rejected." Sam reached out, tilting her chin back up to look at him. "Don't pick rejected. Ah just…Ah don't wanna think o' us, knowin'…you ever have a moment that's supposta be…wonderful an'…Ah don't want it t'be tarnished by what Ah'm goin' through." His rambling thoughts were both enlightening and heartfelt. It stirred her and she needed to reach out to him. "What are you going through?" Carrie asked softly. He closed his eyes again. "Sam, you can trust me."

She said stepping inside the bathroom a bit, balancing the dry clothes in one hand and touching his face with the other. "Ah know Ah just…Lemme get my thoughts t'gether. Ah'm not feelin' myself." Carrie nodded, pressing the spare clothes and clean towel to his chest to keep from kissing it. "Of course." She stood on tiptoe and kissed his cheek. It was odd to find the chaste gesture as arousing as it was. So he didn't embrace her because it would have been far too obvious. "Thanks." "Hey um, I haven't eaten yet. Are you hungry at all?" Sam nodded. "Ah could eat, whatever you're havin' is fine." "Okay." With a sad smile, he closed the door. Carrington stood at the door a while longer after he closed it. She listened to him take off his shoes and jeans, smiling sarcastically to herself before walking away.

"You're in over your head, Stahl." She said softly to herself before picking up the phone to order dinner. A change of clothes might make her feel more composed she thought after ordering dinner. As Carrie took the tank top off, she remembered that she hadn't minded being close to him when he was soaking wet and the thought made her smile. She wanted him. It was getting harder and harder to ignore her biological urges. And Sam wanted love. She could see it in eyes, feel it in his touch, and believed it in his words. Sex or love, with Sam it turned out to not be a difficult choice. In fact she didn't need to make one at all. Damn him if she didn't want him all the more for that.

The young blonde lay back on her bed with a sigh. It was so easy. There were hundreds of reasons she could concoct around why it shouldn't be, why she shouldn't have let things go this far. But every time she started down that path she was reminded of just how much she genuinely wanted this. Now her mind drifted back to Sam or rather focused back on his actions this evening. What could possibly be on his mind? What had the young man so worked up? Sam was despite his youth the sort to take things in stride nor was he prone to acting this erratically. It worried her, more for his sake than hers. She was determined to figure this puzzle out.


	7. For The Price Of A Cup Of Tea

Title: For the Price of a Cup of Tea  
Author: nyxie9  
Disclaimer: Oh the things I don't own. Some of them are found here  
Spoilers: none  
Pairing/Characters: Sam Guthrie/OC  
Rating: R  
Summary: Sam and Carrie talk some more. Directly after Part 6

* * *

"For the price of a cup of tea  
You'd get a line of coke  
For the price of a night with me  
You'd be the village joke  
For the price of a pint of milk  
I'll tell you all I know  
About the state of the world today  
Sit down, enjoy the show"

* * *

Carrington opted for a well worn 'Stresses Moi? Jamais!' shirt paired with soft flannel shorts. She didn't think it too provocative but she wished she'd shaved her legs more recently. It was strange, she thought, how physically comfortable she was with the man. She kind of liked that. Actually she liked it a lot. She had never experienced that before, not with any other man she'd known.The woman shuffled out to the kitchen to retrieve a chilled bottle of wine.

That's where Sam found her, bending over, shorts ridding up pleasantly. He only leaned against the wall of the kitchen, watching her. when she straightened, he didn't startle her, make her smile kindly or merit a greeting. Rather she snorted and then laughed. "What's so funny, girl?" "That is…not a flattering outfit."

The sweatpants were about three inches too short and the shirt rode high on his midriff. All she could do was laugh. "At least they're dry." "You looked better wet." She said still laughing as she set the bottle on the counter. The blonde sauntered over to him, noting that he did look a bit better after the shower and aside from the ridiculous outfit he now wore, he looked more human, more like the Sam she was used to.

"Funny, Ah was thinking the same thin' about you." "Yeah?" She asked as she wrapped her arms around his neck. "Yeah." Came his muttered reply as he pressed a soft kiss to her lips. She melted against his now warm body, his hands pulled her against him. "Sam… what happened tonight?" He was quiet a long time, still holding her, sill looking down into her bright eyes filled with concern. Would it ruin everything between them if he told her everything about himself?

If he didn't would he find a better time? Would she think he had been keeping something from her? No, he didn't want to get any deeper with her if he had to keep secrets. "Ah'm a mutant, Carrie."It was one of those statements that he had expected to be followed by a sharp slap across his face or at least a disgusted look. He had never had to come out like this, never had to tell a normal girl what he was, what he did. Yet, she didn't look shocked, she didn't even look confused. "Aren't you a little old to just be finding out?" He shook his head. "No, Ah…Ah've known since Ah was 16." "Then I'm not sure…what's wrong, that's got you so flustered." "Ah…you ever…you ever see someone die?" The woman nodded, again not what he expected. "Well…was there ever somethin' you coulda done an' you tried but y'still failed?"

Being truthful, no matter how unbelievable it might be, she nodded slightly before placing her hands on the sides of his face. "What happened?" It wasn't that he didn't expect her to ask that but he thought…more like feared, that she would react poorly. "Someone died 'cause o' me." The weight of his words weighed heavily in him, visibly so, perhaps more than the event. "Sam…" Carrie said, stroking his jaw lightly, "Did you kill them?"

There wasn't accusation in her tone, only the question. What would happen to those kind blue eyes if he had said yes, he wondered for a second. "No! Ah…Ah tried t' save her, she was just a little girl Carrie. Ah…Ah didn't have enough time t'get there." "What kept you?" "Ah was getting other people out o' the buildin' before it came down." "So you were helping others?" "Yeah but Ah didn't managed t'help her."

"Sounds to me like you tried. Success can't always be measured in results." "That doesn't make sense, Carrie." "All I'm saying is that trying is what's important. You have to take some solace in that. You have to know that because you did something that some people survived." Sam just closed his eyes, holding the slight blonde and resting his forehead against hers as her hands stroked his hair as a mother might.

How the hell could she be so calm about this? How could she be so understanding? He knew deep down that she was right. It was part of being an X-man, the risk of failure. "Ah…if Ah had been faster…" It hurt her to see him like this. She cared for him too much to want to see him beating himself up. One of her hands left its place on his cheek and touched the small gold cross on her neck out of habit.

"Sammy, sometimes…God has a reason behind who lives and dies and…even if we don't understand the reason why, I think there is one behind deaths that we label as senseless. I don't claim to know what it is and I don't know what happened out there but Sam, you're…you've always acted with the best of intentions with me. I can't believe that you would ever act without them." "Ah coulda…"

She shushed him, pressing her finger to his lips. "No, Sam, you couldn't have. If you could have, wouldn't you have?" "Of course!" "Then it stands to reason that while sad and horrible, it's not your fault and you can't beat yourself up over something that couldn't stop." He wanted to believe her so badly, wanted her words to sooth him. They did but there was a part of him that told him something could have been different.

"Ah still…Ah wish Ah coulda changed things." "I know that's because you're kind man with a good heart." She pressed a kiss to his nose. "You came all the way over here because of that? This…this can't be the first time things have gone pear shaped, if the this is what you do." "No it ain't but it's the first time like this an' the first time Ah've felt this way about it." It sounded ridiculous to him, to feel this way about failing.

He was used to the risk, the fear, the potential fatality of it and had found ways to deal with it. Maybe it was this woman. He had come to the point where he wanted to confide in her, find comfort in her. Then I'm glad you came here instead of doing something rash." "Ah thought this was pretty rash." "No, just…alarming without knowing why but…I care for you a great deal Sam. In fact, I adore you so I'm more than willing to listen to your hopes and fears and lend you a shoulder to cry on."

His grey eyes locked onto her soft blue ones, wondering how he had been lucky enough to end up with her. "You're perfect." Sam finally said, kissing her on the nose. "Well maybe I can get myself back to normal standing by telling you that you look like you were on the wrong end of the hand-me-down stack." Sam's only response was a playful tickling, coaxing a squeal out of her soft lips as she squirmed against him.

"Stop! Oh Jesus." She gasped trying to hide how ticklish she really was and knowing that she was failing horribly. In a failed attempt to escape his grasp she found herself pinned to wall. It was then his nimble fingers slowed, his palms flattened against her stomach and lips met hers again. Determination in the kiss, passion and longing and a little more than a hint of desperation twisted with his tongue against hers.

Carrie's delicate hands moved from being braced against his chest to sliding around his neck. Her slim leg moved up his and came to rest against his hip as his hand moved from her ass to the smooth expanse of her outer thigh, to hold her leg in there. Her heart was beating faster than it had any right to, she thought. His touch couldn't possibly excite her like it did. Sam's other hand move along her stomach over her shirt a moment before pushing the hem of the garment up, skimming just his fingertip over the soft skin underneath. There was no controlling his need to touch her.

He tried to convince himself he wasn't pushing this past their boundaries of comfort but the more time he spent with the woman, the more accepting she was, the more he wanted her. She flinched just slightly, perhaps afraid he might start tickling her again so he flattened his palm to assure her the playful gesture had past and that he wanted something more substantial. But that caused her to jolt more her hand grasping his wrist with surprising strength only to pull his hand away from her body. He broke their kiss, looking into her eyes with both confusion and concern. What had he done wrong?

He hadn't tread on completely foreign ground. It wasn't like she'd ever complained about the speed at which they were moving or had ever mentioned anything that might indicate she didn't want to go forward. There was something dark lingering in those azure depths, only surfacing a moment before she covered it. "Dinner'll be here shortly. We should…should, um you know the thing." Wow, he thought, her defenses went up quicker than he would have thought.

"What's wrong?" He asked, letting her leg slid off his hip but moving his hand to the wall to halt her flight. The blonde shook her head. "I'm just hungry, is all. I…I'm fine." She wasn't fine but she also wasn't budging. Now wasn't the time to push her, that much was evident in her strangely sad eyes."Really Sam I just…" She didn't know what to say, how to explain what had happened, why the feeling of panic pulsed through her veins.

She released his wrist and ducked under his other arm. There was a danger in her eyes. He suspected that fear in her case was more dangerous than anger. "You need help with somethin'?" Sam asked as he watched her walk away from him."No, it's fine." "Carrie, darlin', did Ah do somethin' wrong?" Her back was still to him so he didn't see the way she pressed her lips together with nervousness. The question sounded painful to her ears, so pitying, only she didn't know if the pity was for him or her.

Carrie knew that she wanted Sam and yet his touch, like no one's before his bothered her most when it floated over the old scars. "No, you've…done everything right." "Then what? Is it…ah mean are you…you're still interested in me, aren't you?" Could it be that her acceptance wasn't as blanketed as it seemed at first? Maybe she didn't want a mutant to touch her. Yet his insecurity made her smile just a bit, not maliciously but simply at the idea that she didn't want him. He couldn't be farther off. "Sam, who wouldn't want you?" He shook his head, walking her now, standing behind her but not touching her.

"There's somethin'…when Ah touched you--" "We all have our pasts, Sam. And I'm sorry that sometimes mine is going to get in the way." "Babe, that's…Ah can't begin t'tell you what's wrong with that. Ah…if there's somethin' that…" His words piled on top of each other as he tried to understand, make her understand everything in his mind right then. He took a steadying breath. "Ah care about you too. If there's somethin' wrong, Ah wanna know about it."

"Carrie, then what? Ah think we're got a future together. If there's somethin' in your past…you know you can tell me." She wanted to believe him so much. She should have told him her concerns and fears. She didn't. "There's beer in the fridge if you don't care for wine." It wasn't even close to what she wanted to say but it was all she could muster. "Okay," He said again, not sure what to make of it all, still concerned that he had done something wrong.

A lingering thread hung between them fostered by the insecurity over what was taking place in her mind. Still, they ate dinner together, the awkwardness between them melting slowly as they spoke and joke, ate, drank. It progressed so far as to make it seem almost like none of the evening had happened and they were just together, with each other as it had been before.

The pair found themselves on the sofa, not sitting as close as they might have but the distance was almost unperceivable. Neither of them was watching the movie they'd put in. Their hands had linked at some point and it gave him courage. Sam leaned in bridging the gap between them and cupped the side of her face with his hand, kissing her softly. "Sam?" She questioned softly after they parted. "Ah'm…" He paused looking at her soft face.

"Ah don't really know what Ah'm supposed t'do or feel here.." She smiled as she slid closer to him, leaning into the tall southerner. "That's okay. I don't suppose you need to know right now." Her hand rested against his firm chest and she licked her lips, wanting to taste him again. "Tell me we're okay, baby." "We are Sam. I think we are." "Can Ah…still touch you?"

Her eyes seemed to darken at the suggestion but he couldn't tell if it was in lust or anger. He hadn't meant to say it like that, had wanted to sound smoother than that. "Ah don't mean…now. Ah want you but Ah can wait if you ask me." "We need to wait." She couldn't really believe the words coming out of her mouth because it wasn't what she wanted. On one hand the longing for him had been building for months and on the other wanted to linger in the moments beforehand.

Things seemed to go downhill after she got physically involved with someone. And she didn't want to recoil from the lovely man every time he touched her stomach. "I mean, I want you but…I don't want there to be question. I've had very few perfect moments and fewer men who've wanted to treat me the way you treat me so, it may be selfish but I want to draw that out." It made him smile for some reason. "Truth be told, I don't want to wait at all Sam. My heart's not in it tonight."

"Care, Ah want all of you, heart and soul." He said kissing hands, looking so genuinely into her eyes. She couldn't explain why she did what she did next. Perhaps it was the air of honesty that permeated their evening or because she truly cared about Sam or because he cared about her but she wasn't scared. She wanted, nay needed him to know. "I've never done this before."

Sam's eyes widened, not out of fear but out of confusion. That might explain her reaction to his growingly sexual touches. "You're a virgin?" Her face skewed in bewilderment at how he'd drawn the conclusion but the decided her stream of conscious announcement wasn't all that well prefaced.

"No...not that. I'm not…no. No what I haven't done is…I…well I've never been completely honest with someone about my past and I'd like to be with you." "Oh well, yeah, me too." Sam said with an encouraging smile and laugh, stroking the blade of his finger down her soft arm. "Well, I used to be married." "Married? You're too young." "Nice of you to say but again no." "You're not still…" "No! We really must work on your jumping to conclusions. I've been divorced a long time. But the reason I got divorced was because my husband beat me, nearly killed me."

Sam had not been expecting that, not even close. It put things in perspective. Despite her wishes, all of her guards fell down and she couldn't stop herself from telling him. "I…I haven't been in a real relationship since then, Sam. I haven't trusted anyone enough to…to not hurt me. But I know you won't. I trust you. I just…I had to tell you that." It wasn't all she had to tell him but it was part and right then it had to be enough. "Listen t'me Carrie, Ah ain't that kinda guy, okay?" She didn't respond but he continued.

"Ah'm not looking t'hurt you. Ah'm more than willin' t'wait f'r…whatever you wanna wait f'r be it days or months, even years. Ah'm not…Ah don't just mess around with girls." He touched the spot of her stomach tenderly, over the shirt that had made her flinch before. She did again but tired not to. Sam kept his hand there this time, firm but not too hard. "You can trust me. Ah'm not a bad guy." "I didn't think you were." Grasping his hand she lifted it only to slide her shirt up just below her breasts.

Sam didn't look at first, only staring into her eyes. He realized that she wasn't worried about him hurting her but about whatever had been done to her. The scar tissue stood out faintly on her nearly flawless skin. Long and jagged, Sam knew they were knife wounds that fell along her transverse abdominals up under her shirt and down under the waist band of her shorts. "Carrie." He whispered as he reached out to touch her, wanting to sooth her old wounds somehow if he could.

She leaned back at the insistence of his hands. Carrie closed her eyes, a mixture of sadness and nervousness on her lovely face. "Ah think you're beautiful." He whispered leaning over her to brush his lips against hers. Pulling away when her mouth turned up in a ghost of a smile, Sam touched her stomach firmly but affectionately. His flaxen topped head bent down and pressed a trail of loving kisses to the old wounds. The trembling of her stomach wasn't fear now.

It was there but mixed pleasantly with anticipation and hope and a slight tickle from the bristle of his unshaven face. "Sam, you can't do this to me." She said trembling as his soft lips touched her skin, contrasting with the course beginnings of his beard. "Why not?" He asked, his breath hot against her. "I…it's too much. You'll make me cry." "Maybe you should cry. Ah'm not gonna stop being kind t'you. So, you're either gonna hafta cry or get used to it."

Sam pulled down her shirt but pressed a final kiss to her stomach over her shirt. He leaned over her a bit, looking down into her dewy eyes, moist with the tears she refused to cry. And he said what he'd wanted to say since he'd come in the door and she'd held him in her thin arms, perhaps since he'd met her. "Carrie, Ah love you." "Sam," she said, voice shaky as she turned her head away from his cool eyes of slate blue. even lined with dark circles they were full of truth and beautiful.

She couldn't look at him. He touched her chin softly, stroking her face tenderly. He had come seeking comfort from he found himself able to give it to her just as easily as she had done for him. At least he hoped he had made her feel at least half as safe and reassured as she made him. "Why?" "Why what?" He said with a slight laugh. "Why love me?" Her voice whispered, nearly failing her. "Because you're beautiful." She scoffed.

"Ah mean it. Ah'm not saying just physically. Everythin' about you is beautiful; your laugh, your touch, the kindness in your eyes, the way kiss me, the way you hold me, the way that Ah feel like Ah can say anythin' t' you and you judge don't me f'r it. Ah can't see a single thing that's not beautiful about you, that's not worth lovin'. Ah know there're…not beautiful things about you but Ah even love your faults. You're beautiful, all over. Ah'd be stupid not t'love you."

"You're so much better than I've ever thought I deserved." She turned her head to face him again and she couldn't believe how beautiful he was in that moment. Carrie reached up to stroke his jaw. "I'd be pretty foolish not to love you back I guess." Sam smiled back down at her. "I reckon we're a pretty good match then."

"You still wanna stay the night?" Being alone wasn't something she could face right then. It wasn't sexual. It was for comfort. "Only if you want me to." She nodded and he rose up, pulling her with him to sit beside him. And they went back to their movie. He was well aware of the fact that she didn't actually tell him that she loved him but considering what she'd just told him, he didn't blame her. He'd have to earn the words. He'd have to earn her but Sam Guthrie wasn't a man who was afraid of hard work.


	8. Beyond the Sunrise

**Title**: Beyond the Sunrise

**Author**: nyxie9

**Disclaimer**: I bet by know you know I don't actually own anything affiliated with Marvel.

**Comic**: x-men, AU

**Spoilers**: none

**Pairing/Characters**: Sam Guthrie/OC

**Rating**: R just to be safe

**Summary**: Sam reflects on Carrie

_A/N: Young X-men has been bumming me out and every time I've sat down to rehash/refresh this particular story, I've only been able to write…not this. So here's a little tidbit, just the barest excuse for plot. But rest assured if you actually like this story, there's more and maybe it'll make up my lack of posting but I've been drawn into another Sam/Carrie series but Post M-day. (Yep, I'm actually going to accept continuity…for a while)._

Beyond the Sunrise

* * *

Joseph was sure the liquor had caused this dream  
His eyes were sure that heaven was not her scene  
She was no saint  
Sir, come to me and I will keep you warm  
Taste hope in my skin and faith with the dawn you will rise

* * *

Sam watched her sleep, wishing he didn't take so much pleasure in doing so. Her gold hair spilled over onto his pillow and he could smell her sweet woodsy perfume. The woman was invitingly warm, too inviting. If he was more of a gentleman, he would have stayed the couch. That's what he told himself at any rate. He should have gone back home after he'd confessed his secret and gotten the weight off his shoulders.

However, the draw of having an attractive woman share a bed with him again was hard thing to turn down. Even if it was strictly platonic. But then her revelation weakened his resolve. The look on her face he couldn't put into words was a request for him to stay, for him to go, for him to hold her, for him to push her away. He chose to stay. He chose to hold her. Because he couldn't do anything else. It wasn't just words to him when he said he wouldn't hurt her.

He wanted to show that frightened young woman that lived inside her that not all men were like her ex husband, particularly not him. He wanted her to feel the difference when he laid his hands on her, knew there had to be a difference. Carrie had to be able to tell that he was a nice man. He promised himself that he would treat her better than any man had. Sam knew he was in it for the long run.

Manners or not, there wasn't anything she could have done or said that night that would have changed his mind. If he couldn't turn her around on him…maybe he could help her find some sort of happiness. 

He could plan things better. Make things better for her. Sam wasn't blind; he knew there was something more behind her confession of an abusive husband. There had to be.

It was written on her body. The Kentuckian had seen enough violence over the years to know the angry marks on her stomach were not something to be thought of lightly. They were made with malice of heart. It wasn't something casual, as she tried to pass it off as. There was a little too much control in her face, too much calm when she spoke. The wounds said a great deal but it was her reactions to his touch, both accidentally and when she invited him that told him more. They all showed the trust and fear, the hope and despair that she felt.

He only wanted her to feel goodness when they were together. The man wasn't naive enough to think that meant that they would only have good times together but rather she would know there was good in his heart, good in hers as well. People didn't always know what he saw, what he too in and what he observed about people. The young man knew a great deal more than he let on. Some might chalk it up to intuition or simply his great poker face but he knew Carrie was holding back.

One day she'd tell him the whole story, one day she'd be completely honest and he knew that he would hold her and still care for her as much as he did now if not more. Because she was beautiful inside and out. Those reasons made it possible lay beside her, be in love with her, be inflamed by her presence and not lay an uninvited finger one her. Well, mostly. He brushed her soft hair away from her face, trace the line of her jaw and kissed her temple but they were innocent touches.

Sam knew they were both so raw and exposed but somehow being together made it okay, made any weakness they may have perceived not weak. Perhaps that was why they had been drawn together. It was that night that they had moved past their relationship being boiled down to just infatuation. There was something real, something tangible even if it was vulnerability.

With a relived sigh, he finally settled beside the blonde, wrapping his arms around her, pulling her close to his body, offering her what support and protection he could as she slept. He listened to her gentle heart beat and matched his breath to hers as he rested his lips against the back of her head. She was giving him just as much as he was giving her, by being with him, by asking him to stay, even asking him to wait.

He was certain that even without the words that her actions, reactions, and the look in her eye that she was truly in this whole hog. If she hadn't been serious before, she was now. How many people had she let herself be vulnerable with? He knew that he was probably the only one like this and he liked being her first. But he also knew that it allowed him to be exposed to her as well. It was okay. She had never judged him harshly for a thing he said or did, even the postponed dated, even the less than dazzling nights of pizza and beer.

And most importantly, she gave him with understanding if she couldn't actually understand. Sam fell into a restful sleep beside the woman he loved that night, not worrying about how she felt about him or their future. He knew.


	9. The Chalet Lines

**Title**: The Chalet Lines- Part 9 of DCW  
**Author**: nyxie9  
**Disclaimer**: Well, Carrie's mine but not much else.  
**Comic**: x-men, AU  
**Spoilers**: none  
**Pairing/Characters**: Sam Guthrie/OC  
**Summary**: Carrie's turn to ponder her future.

* * *

**The Chalet Lines**

Fuck this, I've felt like this for a week  
I'd put a knife right into his eyes  
My friend can't see  
She asks me why I don't  
Tell the law  
Oh what's the fucking point at all

* * *

Carrie's dreams came unbidden that night but not unexpectedly. Those old memories that lent themselves to old wounds ran deep and were things she hadn't thought of much in some time. Innocent at first, even unremarkable but her reality ran together with her unconsciousness. The pain was distant but the fear, the hopelessness, the failure, the sadness, the anger, they were all palpable. The blows that fell upon her hard and fast, faster and harder than she remembered them ever happening. They came from an unseen but familiar source.

The house wasn't her own but lying on the kitchen floor, having been told to clean up herself and her own blood after a sadly routine beating was. She knew she would die there if she did nothing. And somehow she knew that she had died there already. The coppery taste of her own blood was strangely overwhelming, slick against the tile floor, still wet and sticky. It had begun to dry against her hair and face, obscuring her vision a bit. There was a time she would have looked at herself in the mirror, regretting the loss of whatever beauty she still had to the ugly dark swells of flesh and blood. Now she only took note of it.

And then she found herself running to the coast, the soft grass giving way to sand and then waves as she tried to lose herself in a frothy embrace. Her tears mixed with the ocean water and she hoped that if they could become one with the sea she could too. The salt stung her cuts but she barely felt it. She was so heavy she didn't know how she could stay afloat. Letting herself sink, she fought her body's need for oxygen, for life as she let the water fill her lungs. Blackness surrounded her, pulled at her mind as she let go. It was so peaceful, even the panic her body tried to push into her mind was settling for some reason.

In the dream, just as in reality she woke on the coast, someone trying to save her. He breathed life into her frail, broken body. He returned the life she had rejected. However he wasn't the same stranger who had done it the first time. No, now the kindly man's face was that of Sam Guthrie.

She woke, alarmed yet calm as she turned to see the man from her dream sleeping peacefully beside her as if he had no knowledge of the way her subconscious had betrayed her feelings for him. Did she honestly see him as a savior? No. She couldn't possibly. It was just a dream, old memories that mixed with new ones. Sam was just a guy, albeit a man she cared deeply for and could even love but he hadn't saved her. He made her want to care and he made her happy. Maybe he had saved her from the life of loneliness and bitterness she had set upon.

That too tasted bitter in her mouth as she disliked the idea of depending on anyone for anything, giving up her control to this man. Despite her tender feeling for him, he would never own her. It was a dark thought she knew. It was based out of fear and her past but it didn't change the fact that it was there. She wished she didn't feel that way. Carrington wished that she could go back to the time where she could trust implicitly, give herself fully to someone. Could she even remember that time? She had always been a bit disconnected from people and even before she had turned away from them, she'd had few friends.

Part of her thought things would have been easier if she had simply slept with him weeks ago and left rather than play boyfriend and girlfriend. Sex was easier. No connections, no involvement and she wouldn't end up caring for him. But now she knew him, knew about things him and actually liked him. The worst part about it was how easy, deceptively easy it had been to fall for him. It scared her as well as thrilled her. And she didn't want to ruin it. She wanted to keep Sam for herself. The petite blonde sighed, safe in Sam's strong arms. He looked so calm, handsome, rugged, kind. Carrie shifted her arm, raised her hand to stroke his face, touch his hair. The woman felt her chest tighten with emotions that were just as undesired in that moment as her dream had been.

How could he make her feel so conflicted? She wanted to hear him tell her he loved her again, that he would never hurt her, that he needed her, that he wanted her, and that he would love her forever. The first time had been unsettling too, confusing and comforting. Sam wasn't trying to pull something over on her. He stirred at her softly desperate touch. Not wanting to wake him, she pushed him back into sleep, giving him sweet dreams with her seldom used powers. It was the only kind thing she knew she could give him. It was then she thought perhaps she should tell him her secret. He was a mutant, he would understand, right?

Of course if she had been a mutant herself perhaps he would have understood but she wasn't. She wasn't even human, not entirely. Hallmark didn't offer a card for that. The woman didn't want to ruin her future over her past. Why tell him? She wanted to be normal. If she just closed her eyes and went back to sleep, maybe she could be normal for a few hours at least. Carrie tucked her head under his chin, securely against his chest. She whispered five words as she wrapped her arms around him now and waited for a dreamless sleep to come: Sam Guthrie, I love you.


End file.
